


The Last of the Great Frost Fairs

by The_Bentley



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, F/M, Female-Presenting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fluff, Food, Ice Skating, Kissing, London, Regency, Regency Romance, She/Her Pronouns for Aziraphale (Good Omens), Winter, frost fair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27957755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bentley/pseuds/The_Bentley
Summary: They circled the skating area with the others — couples in love and daring young men who skated in fast circles while doing the occasional trick. Crowley would have been more than happy to show them up if he didn’t have an angel to assist. Instead, he watched the show-offs wondering how many stunts they could perform before one of them ended up on the ice. He should have been watching what he was doing but didn’t realize this until Aziraphale had pulled him off balance again despite his miracle. Unable to correct, they both went down in a pile, Crowley practically on top of Aziraphale.His breath caught as he looked into her sky blue eyes staring back at him. She looked beautiful even here with her back on the cold, wet ice.“Sorry,” he whispered, reaching down to kiss her; a soft, chaste touching of lips that was almost acceptable in public.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43
Collections: Celestial Harmonies: Cider & Cocoa





	The Last of the Great Frost Fairs

**Author's Note:**

> Exclusivity is up! Here's my piece for the Cider and Cocoa Zine

_River Thames Frost Fair, 1814_

It was late January when the tents started appearing on the frozen river, attracting curious crowds who wished to celebrate until the temperatures rose enough to break up the ice. Many gathered to walk the various booths of goods being sold, to eat a little of the oxen being roasted right on the ice, and participate in the many games being played on the river, such as nine-pin bowling. The buzz spread through London quickly, even reaching those who spent most of the wintertime holed up where it was warm. Word had even got back to the angel in her bookshop who then begged the demon to accompany her to the Thames. Aziraphale wasn’t usually one for crowds but frost fairs were rare enough she was willing to make an exception. Crowley leaned on the till a sceptical look on his face as a wide-eyed Aziraphale requested he escort her, a book clutched to the bodice of her gauzy off-white dress. She had developed the romantically dramatic attitude of an upper-class young lady, much to Crowley’s annoyance. 

“I cannot go alone. It would be unseemly for a lady to be seen out by herself at the fair. You must accompany me.”

“It’s cold out. Besides, you do possess the ability to shape-shift. If it’s that important, you can always look male.” 

“Please, Crowley?”

“Why? I just want to spend a lazy day inside your warm bookshop. Look at it like this . . . You won’t have customers because they will all be down on the river. It can just be you and me spending the day in conversation.” He stepped closer to her, lips brushing the curls falling in front of her ears. “Maybe snog a little, if that’s not too scandalous.”

She flushed before steeling herself for a response. “On cold days like this, you nap most of the time.”

“You should like that! It leaves you plenty of time to read.”

“I want to go to the frost fair,” Aziraphale pouted while sliding the book she held back into its place among the shelves. 

“I don’t.”

She was silent for a while before switching tactics by turning admiring sky blue eyes towards him, a bright smile upon her face. “Is that a new coat? It does look so dashing on you.”

She admired the fitted cut of it and of his tight-fitting trousers that showcased those long legs. He looked every inch the Regency dandy despite sticking with his usual black. 

“Flattery is not going to get you anywhere.”

Aziraphale wasn’t above dangling carrots, as close to temptation as that was. “I will do the next assignment you get that’s not too far away. I cannot leave the bookshop for very long. Gabriel will notice. No need to return the favour.”

Crowley considered it a moment, taking off his tinted spectacles to clean them with a red handkerchief as he mulled it over. “All right. Done.”

Reluctant to shrug back into his black carrick coat, he forced himself to put it on anyway while Aziraphale retrieved her outer wrappings which consisted of a celestial blue pelisse coat, fur muff and wrap and off-white bonnet to go over her loose blonde bun. Buttoning the frog fasteners of the pelisse, she beamed her brightest smile at Crowley. He rolled his eyes before putting his top hat on his head, determined to not have any fun. Aziraphale could have fun for both of them as far as he was concerned, he thought as she finished wrapping up in her warm outerwear.

“Come on, angel. The ice is going to melt by the time you get ready.”

They stepped out the door, Aziraphale threading her arm through Crowley’s before stuffing her hand in her muff. The cold slammed into Crowley, causing him to silently suck in a breath before saying a few choice words about the chill under it. Beside him, Aziraphale’s breath puffed visibly before her, forming a perfectly round cloud that only confirmed what Crowley knew — it was too cold out here for his liking. But a deal was a deal, and he had made one with his angel. They crunched through the snow still left on the pavement, Aziraphale careful not to get her delicate half-boots too wet. Why Aziraphale enjoyed the flimsy women’s fashion of the day escaped Crowley, but maybe she had been attracted by the soft pastels and gauzy, ethereal-like fabrics. Crowley hailed a hackney carriage, not wishing to walk in the chilly weather.

Taking Aziraphale’s hand, he helped her into the cab, climbing in behind her after telling the driver to head to the fair. With a jerk the carriage was off, bouncing along the snow-filled roads of London, making Crowley wonder if motion sickness was any better than freezing out in this weather. It thankfully wasn’t a long ride to the Thames.

“Oh!” exclaimed Aziraphale as they reached the riverbank.

Looking out the carriage window upon it, her eyes grew wide in excitement. Tents were set up over the river, crowds swarmed over it and the sights were enhanced by the smell of cooking food, the scent of roasting ox being the most prevalent. She turned to Crowley, clutching his arm tighter and laughed as she began to get caught up in the excitement. Dragging him forward, she headed out on to the ice itself, the demon keeping a tight grip on her to prevent her from taking a tumble while navigating the transition between solid ground and ice-covered river. He didn’t know how she was going to stand in those boots. His were sturdy ones meant for riding and even he felt himself start to slip as they walked out on to the Thames. But he noticed Aziraphale had no trouble despite the soft leather soles she walked on.

“Careful,” he said simply as a precaution.

“I’ll be fine. If an angel can walk on water, then they can walk on ice, too. It’s the same substance, different state.”

“Oh. Didn’t know you had that ability.”

She hand-waved it off like it wasn’t anything extraordinary. “What shall we do first? Ice skate? Get some cocoa? Oh, look! They’re selling hot apples!” 

Pulling Crowley off in the direction of the woman carrying a basket on her head full of the fruit, covered with a towel to keep it warm, Aziraphale accosted her and paid for two apples. She handed one to Crowley, who sniffed it before watching Aziraphale eat hers. He never did really enjoy apples as they proved themselves to be a troublesome fruit for him. But if it made Aziraphale happy, he would eat one. Biting into it, he found it really was not that bad tasting and rather warming. It would do for now until the chill returned, forcing him to search out some coffee. Aziraphale finished hers with gusto, vanishing the core while looking for the next exciting attraction. 

They decide to explore the tents, finding one selling pies and another commemorative silver spoons, while a third had a small printing press on it where one could buy a card with one’s name and the date printed on it while waiting. Aziraphale bought one as a souvenir. Setting the type, the man running the press quickly got to work. Aziraphale chatted with him about books, enquiring if he printed those as well, delighted that he replied in the positive. He handed her the freshly printed personalized card. She thanked him as she looked at it while they exited the tent back out into the cold, much to Crowley’s annoyance.

“Miss A.Z. Fell. Printed on the frozen Thames by M.G. Printing Co., 2 February 1814,” she read before handing it to Crowley. “You have pockets. Can you hang on to this for me, please?”

“Of course.” He vanished it back to the bookshop, instead.

Taking Crowley’s arm again, Aziraphale moved on, stopping to watch some performers, including magicians. She was enamoured of the human version of magic and sleight-of-hand while Crowley remained unimpressed. Still, it was Aziraphale’s day, so they stood watching the magicians perform their works, Aziraphale standing with head titled to one side as she attempted to suss out how exactly they made it look like they were performing real magic tricks. Her interest in magic would grow until she finally studied under John Maskelyne later this century, although her grasp on the craft would always be shaky. Crowley snorted as he watched the magician before them palm the coin, making it seem like it had vanished into thin air. The man bowed as the crowd applauded his trick, Aziraphale taking her hands out of her warm muff to clap along with them.

“He palmed it then put it in his pocket,” Crowley muttered, unimpressed by the so-called feats of magic. 

“I do wish to learn such tricks one of these days,” said Aziraphale. 

“Why? You can do miracles. Wouldn’t even need to palm the coin. You could just make it disappear entirely.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“I find it efficient. Let’s go. I’m getting cold standing here.”

They did not get too far before the ice beneath them began to shake, making both angel and demon wonder if the river was starting to thaw despite the many days of below-freezing weather. Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand, ready to miracle them both back to the bookshop should cracks start to form. They needn't have worried as it was only another piece of showmanship being performed on the thick layers of ice. This time it wasn’t cartwheelers performing acrobatics or magicians making coins disappear. This was a handful of animal trainers leading a full-sized elephant across the ice down by Blackfriars Bridge. The behemoth strode its way across, Aziraphale watching nervously with every step it took. Crowley set a comforting hand on her shoulder, patting in a reassuring fashion. 

“It’s not going to break through. The ice is too thick. Just a publicity stunt.”

But Aziraphale watched it until it stepped up on to the far bank and was herded off to wherever its trainers were leading it before she heaved a sigh of relief.

“I haven’t seen one of those since Hannibal crossed the Alps.”

“It’s all right, angel. Let’s move on. Didn’t you say something about ice skating?” He was smiling at her, holding two pairs of metal skates that could be strapped on to their boots.

“Oh, Crowley!” Aziraphale clasped her hands together in delight, the fur muff pushed up on one forearm. 

“Ready?” 

With a wave, they were wearing the skates, neither one of them prepared for how ice skating actually worked. Aziraphale laughed when Crowley slipped, landing not only on his tail bone, but his pride. Grumbling, he stood up, now steady and took the angel’s hand, leading her carefully over to the skating area, push of the blade by push of the blade. She wobbled considerably while he stayed upright as if he had been ice skating his entire life. Crowley winked at Aziraphale, putting a hand around her to keep her upright as she pushed off with her skates in a cautious manner. She was now afraid of falling since she was balanced upon two thin blades of metal. Confused by his sudden ability to remain upright, she looked up at Crowley.

“A little demonic miracle. I can’t be landing on my . . .”

“Language! I know what you’re going to say.”

“. . . backside. It’s embarrassing.”

He kept an arm around her, pulling her in scandalously close for the times. It did not matter as no other couples paid them any mind. They started with Crowley’s arm a steadying presence around her waist until she became used to the skates. Thinking she was ready, he moved off a little, only having his arm linked with hers while she stuffed her freezing cold hands in her muff to warm them. She was still careful, going slow and not doing anything very exciting on the skates, but she was enjoying herself. Crowley found he was, too. It was such a joy to watch Aziraphale have fun outside the bookshop, even if it meant putting up with the inconvenience of cold weather. He felt a slight twinge of guilt for refusing her at first.

Aziraphale hit some uneven ice, causing her free arm to fly out to the side and Crowley to grip her that much more firmly as she threatened to fall on the frozen river under them. Laughing, she recovered, getting brave enough with Crowley by her side to pick up some speed. They circled the skating area with the others — couples in love and daring young men who skated in fast circles while doing the occasional trick. Crowley would have been more than happy to show them up if he didn’t have an angel to assist. Instead, he watched the show-offs wondering how many stunts they could perform before one of them ended up on the ice. He should have been watching what he was doing but didn’t realize this until Aziraphale had pulled him off balance again despite his miracle. Unable to correct, they both went down in a pile, Crowley practically on top of Aziraphale.

His breath caught as he looked into her sky blue eyes staring back at him. She looked beautiful even here with her back on the cold, wet ice. 

“Sorry,” he whispered, reaching down to kiss her; a soft, chaste touching of lips that was almost acceptable in public.

“Don’t worry about it, Crowley,” she replied as he helped her back on her feet, cheeks glowing.

He held her closer again, telling himself it was because he didn’t want her falling again, but he wasn’t fooling either of them, and Aziraphale was willing to play along. They made a few more rounds of the skating area before Aziraphale had had her fill, which suited Crowley fine. While they took off their skates, Aziraphale spoke of wanting to find the bookseller who had a booth out on the ice to which he agreed because booths meant warmth. Weaving through the crowds and poking around here and there, they located it near the London Bridge, Aziraphale hurrying in to check out their selection. Amused, Crowley followed along behind.

“You’re a bookseller. Why do you need to go to other bookshops?”

“Because it is always possible they have something I don’t.”

He let her browse as long as she liked. This merchant had a brazier and Crowley took full advantage of it, standing close to it to warm his cold body as Aziraphale used nearly six thousand years of expertise to search out any rare books the merchant might have for sale. But even a warm demon got bored with waiting and Crowley’s impatience soon pushed him out the door to search for foodstuffs. Aziraphale would be hungry so some pies or maybe some of that roast ox wouldn’t come amiss. He found a stand selling small fruit pies and bought a couple before following his nose further down to where the roasted meats were. Paying a couple of shillings, he bought two slices, bringing it all back up to the bookseller where Aziraphale still was combing through every single book. Poking his head in the entrance, he attracted her attention.

“Angel.”

She turned to look at him, a manuscript in her hands. He showed her his purchases and the smell reminded her how peckish she was. Signalling she was going to go pay, she headed for the till while he waited outside the booth, a miracle keeping the food warm. It wasn’t long before Aziraphale appeared, the book wrapped up in soft cloth and carried in both arms. Crowley began to walk to the shore, the angel not objecting as she ate her slice of roasted ox as delicately as one could without utensils, the book now tucked under one arm.

“Here. You don’t need to carry that.” Touching it, Crowley vanished it to the bookshop where it would be waiting for her by the till.

He gave her a pie as they waited for a carriage for which she thanked him. Business was brisk for the carriages and Aziraphale was able to finish her pie before Crowley became cold and impatient enough to miracle a free carriage for them. Again helping Aziraphale up in it, he gave the driver the bookshop’s address. Aziraphale laid her head on his shoulder appreciative of what he had done for her this afternoon. The swaying carriage took them home.

In the warmth of the bookshop, they stripped off their outerwear, hanging up coats and setting aside hats and bonnets. Heading to the backroom, Aziraphale made tea, bringing out a tray laden with everything needed for tea service to set on the table in front of the couch where Crowley was lounging as he waited for her. She sat down and offered him a cup.

“Thank you, angel.”

“No, Crowley. Thank you. I did so much enjoy today.”

Taking his head in her hands, she gave him a most grateful kiss that he returned eagerly. Tea forgotten for the moment, the angel and demon snogged on the couch before settling in to enjoy their hot drinks. Once the tea was consumed, Aziraphale covered their shoulders with the blanket draped perpetually across the back of the couch and the two spent the evening talking about the Frost Fair while they cuddled close. It would be the last of them. The Thames would never again freeze over solid like it did that cold winter in 1814.


End file.
